Taken
by Artemisa-arcanum
Summary: Harry has been taken from Hogwarts and he and his friends muse on their relationships with and without him. Each section written in first person point of view changing with each chapter. AU without HBP canon.
1. Prologue

Summary - Harry has been taken from Hogwarts and he and his friends muse on their relationships with and without him. Each section written in first person point of view changing with each chapter. The timeline is overlapping, but each character will take you a bit further into the story. Yes there is also a plot, although it not very important.

Disclaimer - I don't own Harry or anything you recognize here. As soon as my world domination plans solidify, I will do my darnedest to own it (once I make J.K.R. finish book 7).

**xxxxx**

**Prologue**

A dark stranger has entered sacred walls of learning, his purpose is to take and steal what does not belong to him, to anyone.

There's a small frightened child crying in terror. A shadow towers over her, commanding and cruel.

Here we see a young man walking down a corridor, no longer a child, not yet a man. A cry calls to him and traps him. He will have to face demons of his own and others making. A passage through the dark before finding the light again.

There we see an intertwined pair. Bound in caring and worry. Together in their love for their third without which they feel incomplete. But they are not.

We meet an old teacher trying to guide so many others in turmoil. His knowledge weights on his mind.

A burdened soul considering might have beens. Would he chose to stand or turn away? His help is needed, as is his strength, more than he would ever think.

A twisted mind desperate in rage and anger.

An indebted lass, she used to be blind and now she sees more than the rest.

**xxxxx**

A/N - Very short prologue to let you sink in to the first chapter.


	2. Chapter 1 Harry

Disclaimer - I still don't own a thing but the world domintation plans are coming along nicely.

**xxxxx**

**Chapter 1 - Harry**

One more week to Christmas holidays. One more week and we're free for some well earned rest. Last term exam this morning and I'm feeling like I'm cloud nine. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley managed to convince Dumbledore to let me go to the Burrow for Christmas. I'm still not sure that is the best idea, but I can't help but feel excited about it.

It will be my second real Christmas with a family. I know I'm not a red-head, but they make me feel like I am one of their own most of the time. Remus promised to make time to spend with us and I'm pretty sure that some of the order will be showing up too. I'm glad we won't be at Grimauld Place. I couldn't bear the memories of Christmas with Sirius from last year, but I refuse to dwell on that. Only one more week of classes and holiday assignments.

Muffled crying catches my ear as I walk down the corridor. I know that most of the students should be at the Great Hall for the last meal of the day, so noises in this part of the castle at this hour is unusual, unless you count the occasional snogging couple. Crying is unexpected. I know Ron and Hermione are waiting for me to join them, but surely a few minutes won't matter.

The crying is louder and more frightened. Sounds like a scared first-year. I open a door and I can see a little girl in the corner, her cheeks are covered in running tears and she is looking towards something to the side. I turn around but I'm too late.

I only hear a voice say, "_Stupefy!_"

ooooo

There are worse awakenings that opening your eyes in a dark, cold and damp stone room. Or so you'd think. One minute I'm on top of the world and actually looking forward to something when fate intervenes. I'm now lying on cold stone floor and my whole body is aching as if I'm recovering from a _cruciatus_ curse. Maybe I am. No idea where I'm at, but this does not look (or feel, as I can't see a thing) like a friendly zone. I don't think I was stunned and left here because someone wants to present me with an Order of Merlin First Class.

I search my pockets but my wand is gone. So are my shoes. It's so dark in here I could close my eyes and not notice the difference. Damn.

I can't believe I fell for the _saving people thing_ again.

ooooo

There's just something about the concept of karma that just rings right with me. I'm sure I must have been a truly evil person in my past life. It's the only possible explanation for the things that happen to me this time around. Adolf Hilter or Gustav Grindewald being the strongest contenders. Baldric the Bloody might have a shot. Vlad the Impaler. One day, I'll go to one of those muggle psychiatrists who swear they can 'regress' you and find out your past lives. Then I'll get my hands on a timeturner and find the bastard that I used to be and can get this cycle stopped.

No wand, no shoes, no light. Sticky situation, but maybe not hopless. I've done magic without a wand before. I just need to be desperate enough for it to work. I have a horrible feeling that I will be.

I explore the room and my first assumption was right: dark, cold, damp and stone. An iron door that surely can only be opened with magic, so rusted that without it, seems impossible to move. A cell or dungeon of some sort, kind of like our potions classroom without the cheery torchlight or Snape's titillating presence. I hate even think about it, but even Snape's company is this place would be good.

I really have to find out who I used to be and stop myself.

ooooo

It's a good thing I've never been afraid of enclosed dark spaces or I would have lost my mind by now. Something I can thank Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon for. All that time in the cupboard was just preparation for this. I should let them know that if I ever get out.

How much time has passed is imposible for me to say. I try to calm my mind and practice my meditation. Nothing like a quiet room for that. I do feel better afterwards. Yet every now and then I wake up again feeling like I've been several rounds against a mountain troll. I can feel buises and aches. My wrists and ankles are rubbed raw and my back is on fire, but I don't seem to remember much about it. Any of it.

There seem to be flashes and images just very the edge of memory. Like trying to think of an annoying date for a History exam or trying to remember the name that goes with a face you know you've met, but can't identify. There are dark shapes and masked people. Laughing and shouted curses. My throat feels like I've been screaming my head off.

And there's _him_.

He's close. So close I'm sure I could have touched him at times. My head feels like it could split apart and I know he must be in a raging temper or incredibly ecstatic. At least he hasn't tried to take me over like at the Ministry. I think he hasn't. I hope he hasn't.

ooooo

I can still feel the bond with Ron. He insisted so much about it and now it's my only real link to anyone outside of this cell. I wish I could use it to talk to him. Let him know where I am. The touch is so faint now that I'm sure that the distance between us is considerable. I just hope he can tell I'm still alive.

Merlin knows how long I will last. What is the point of torturing someone if they can't remember much of it afterwards? Is it just the shock of it or is it deliberate? Is he questioning me? Is he trying to break me? Or is it just for fun? High spirits as dear Aunt Petunia said when we found out that Duders had been torturing the neighbor's pet.

I can't think of why he hasn't killed me off yet. I'm being kept alive for a reason. I wish I knew what that was. Maybe he wants to do it in plain daylight in front of as many supporters and opposition as to leave no doubt of who is stronger. As if there ever was. A really spectacular murder of the Boy-Who-Lived would probably subdue all of the wavering wizard folk out there. They might just hand their world (our world) over to him.

I don't want to believe that people would do something that dumb. He kills me and he takes over? But who ever said that life had any sense of fairness or even sense. I've seen the editorials and the letters in the papers. Most wizard folk just want this to be over, one way or the other.

ooooo

I woke up again feeling like something Fluffy played with and dragged around all of Hogwarts before presenting it proudly to Hagrid. I can barely move this time. I don't think anything is broken, but every joint and muscle protests as I try to sit up. Even my head is killing me. He's close by.

I focus on a good thought to clear my head and pace my breathing. The after images of another torture session are stronger this time. I don't recognize any of the faces, they don't really matter really. Its the eyes that haunt me. Cold eyes. Insane eyes. Hateful eyes. Red slitted eyes. Most people don't notice how their eyes can change how they look. The most beautiful woman can be deemed ugly if she has eyes like the ones I saw tonight.

I've always been interested in people's eyes. Aunt Petunia's disdainful and petty, yet so vulnerable sometimes. Uncle Vernon's presumptuous and self-centerd. Dudley's greedy eyes. I think that is why I ended up with Ron as a best friend. His eyes truly show what he is thinking all the time. He has honest eyes. Heart eyes. Ron's eyes when they meet Hermione's. Now there's a good memory if I ever need one. Plenty to choose from too.

You see, it wasn't just the luck of meeting in the train that made me want to know Ron better, it was the eyes. It was Draco's grey ambitous eyes that made me turn away from him. It was Hermione's crying eyes that Halloween that let me see what she really was like under the know-it-all facade. It's Ginny's shinning eyes after she kissed me by the lake that make me remember that day.

I keep grasping for good thoughts and memories and I keep coming back to that day by the lake. Why didn't I follow up on that kiss? Just because the girl has six older brothers shouldn't be enough of a reason to back away. Even if one of them is my best friend. Hmm. And mother that has been planning the wedding since she first saw me at her house. And a blinding, embarrassing crush on my alter ego: The-Boy-Who-Lived.

But none of those are the real reasons I didn't do a thing. I was afraid. Afraid of caring for her and making her a target. Afraid of caring and then losing someone else like I lost Sirius.

The real problem is that those objections didn't make stop me caring for her at all. They just stopped me from telling her.

Like the lady in question told me that very same day. Having some psycho after you is not a good reason for not telling someone that you care.

I should have listened to her.

ooooo

I miss my friends. More than the food, or the warmth. Their very presence close to me would be enough.

I know Ron will be going out of his mind and that Hermione will be worried sick. They'll probably pick even more fights just to let off some anxiety. I hope not. I really hate it when they fight. I know _why_ they fight, but I wish they would just come out and say what they really want.

I can hear each others descriptions. Ron is a short tempered, short sighed git who never thinks ahead and does not take anything seriously. Hermione is a know-it-all and a worrywart and couldn't have a good time unless you tie her up and force her. But beware for the blind idiot who criticizes the other in their hearing. I've seen the incautious flamed to a crisp. I've been on the receiving end myself.

What did Ginny call it? UST? She hit the nail on its head with that one.

As much as they are opposites, the one thing they have in common is the fact that they are head over heels in love with each other, but are terrified of taking the chance of the other knowing it.

I really hope they decide to take the risk. Such a good thing should not be wasted any longer.

If they don't make a move soon I'm going to have to lock them up in a room together until they do. I hope I remember to leave enough food and drink inside while that happens. It could take days.

ooooo

I sit in my cell and examine my actions of the recent months. Yes, I've been keeping my temper more in line, but I'm still shying away from contact with Dumbledore. He did mean to protect me. I'm going to need his help if I'm to survive. However, that might be a moot point now seeing as I'm being kept prisoner by his lordliness himself.

Oh well, hope springs eternal.

The latest bout of aches and pains bring forward more unpleasant memories. I can hear his voice saying that he is almost ready. It is almost time. My time is running out it seems, along with my strength and most of my sanity.

Of course, there's always been doubts about that last one. Especially if you listen to the Slytherins in my year. Or if you've seen me having a nightmare. Ditto for the parseltongue thing.

Never mind.

I've examined the walls, floor and especially the door to exhaustion. I can feel where the magic is needed to open it, but it resists all of my efforts to do so. I'm too spent for a simple _alohomora,_ let alone a wandless one.

ooooo

I really need to stop the brooding. I should spend more time in meditiation. Do something useful, it will at least prolong whatever the snake-faced psycho has in store for me.

What was the saying? The unexamined life is not worth living? What about the overanalyzed one? I'm alone in the dark with nothing to do except wait for another half forgotten torture session, meditate or think about my life and choices up until now. And the ones I will have to make.

I am reckless by nature. Fools rush in where angeles fear to tread seems to be my motto at times. Yet, what would have happened if I hadn't? Would the philosopher's stone be safe if I had not gone after Quirrel? If Ron and I had not gone directly towards the Chamber after we realized that Lockhart was a fake, would Ginny have survived? Had Hermione and I not gone after Ron and Padfoot under the Whomping willow, I would never have known that Sirius was innocent. Nobody would have. Even if Wormtail escaped, that knowledge gave Sirius strenght and hope to Remus.

If I had not asked Cedric to take the cup with me he might have not died. Yet I didn't really want to share it at first. Neither did he. We both wanted to win. Only when we were at the final challenge, did we see that we had helped each other to get there. In fact by all rights, Cedric did win and he would have been sent to the cementery without me. Same result for any of the others if they had reached it first. I was meant to get there first, but I didn't. Not really. What is it with evil overlords that they have to come up with such complicated plans?

Speaking of complicated plans. The Ministry vision was the mother of them all. Sure, showing me Sirius being hurt was creative, but how did he really expect me to get all the way there? Umbrige and the thestrals were strokes of chance. It's kind of unsettling to be both overestimated and underestimated by the same person.

If I had not gone to the Ministry that night, Sirius would not have died. But Voldemort would not have showed up there and nobody would believe he was back if they hadn't seen it with their own eyes. Is that the silver linning to that particular storm? I think I'd rather have the rain.

ooooo

I open my eyes and I'm sitting on a hard cold chair, shackled to it. My body seems familiar with it and the manacles match where my wrists and ankles burn. I've been here before.

It's a dark room with some undefined light shining on me, but keeping the rest of the area hidden. And there's the pain from the damned Voldemort warning system. As if I needed it. This close I can feel the power radiating from him, tingling on my skin. The hair on my neck is standing up as the dark magic touches me. I close my eyes, but I know what I would see if I could.

Red slitted eyes looking at me.

"Harry."

So chummy calling me by my first name? If that is the case... "Tom," I say, opening my eyes to meet his.

A wave of fury washes over me, yet the voice is polite. "I hope you've enjoyed your stay so far."

"I really must complain about the lodgings. I suppose good help is hard to find."

"Always the witty answer. How very Potter."

He moves even closer and now I do see him. Tall and thin. Pale skin. Flattened nose. He looks at me as I've been a not-so-clever-pet that has messed up the carpet again. I've disappointed him somehow. I'm heartbroken.

"Why do you resist?" He asks insidiously.

"It probably has to do with the way you ask. Now, if you were offering me a warm butterbeer, peace and a life of happiness..."

The curse hits me like a thousand needles. Every nerve ending is on fire and I can't help but scream in agony as my body tries to convulse and fail around, but the restraints hold fast. No wonder my nails have dug their shape on my palms. He releases me from the curse and I fall back on the chair shuddering, my breath shallow.

_Try to find your center. Set aside the pain._

He's watching me as with all the passion of a scientist before a microscope. He's walking around me with measured steps. In and out of the dark shadows. In and out of my vantage point.

"I wonder if you see how alike we really are. You could be so strong if you gave in to your real desires."

"We are nothing alike." Yet for some reason Diary-Riddle's words come back to me. _Both orphans, both half-bloods, both parselmouths, both misunderstood, we even look a bit alike. Or used to._

"Whatever you say, son."

That simple word, a parody of caring makes me want to throw up. I wonder what he would do to me if I did just that all over his nice black robes.

"You are not my father." I hiss. In parseltounge for all I know. He stops his movements and stands in front of me. A hand reaches out and the tip of his finger comes closer to my head.

"No I'm not." Well at least we didn't fall back on the 'I'm your father' hero-enemy cliché. I'd like to think that real life doesn't work that way. Besides, I saw the movie.

"Yet in a sense I did give birth to you." He says as his fingertip touches my scar. The pain is blinding and it takes all of my strenght to clench my jaw and not scream as he traces the jagged edge of the mark on my forehead. "I marked you. I made you. All that you are is from your relation to me. You're the Boy-Who-Lived because of me." The hand moves away.

"No."

"Yes. You are mine just as much as my Death Eaters are mine." His hand pushes the sleeve of my robe to expose my arm, a finger traces a line and rests on my forearem. Where he marks his Death Eaters. Does he mean to brand me with it too? Can it be done by force or do I need to accept it?

"I could do it. Mark you again. I can be done against your will, such as it it. But it is so much more satisfying for it to be willing. For you to embrace the power within yourself. And you will."

I can't help but be mesmerized by his words. Like prey before the swaying of a snake. Like the snake at a charmer's music. Terror fills me as his finger digs into my skin. I can feel cold burning pain in my arm. In my scar.

"Can you imagine? The golden boy of the wizarding world and Dumbledore's favorite. His scion. Joining me as my right hand. Ah, the irony." The voice drips with anticipated satisfaction.

"It will never happen." I grit out as the burning in my skin intensifies. The pressure against my mind builds up and the pain is unbearable. So much easier to give in.

"Never is such a long time, child. Don't use words you can't quite understand." Mildly reproachful. Do all Slytherins practice the condescending tone? Or do I bring it out in them? Some talent I have.

I can't let this happen. I can't be marked as a Death Eater. I can see the faces of my friends. Ron. Hermione. I can picture their dismay and disappointment. Ginny. Neville. Luna. I can see the fearful faces of my DA students. I can see Dumbledore's weary eyes. Remus. Sirius. Molly. Tonks. Arthur. I can't let this happen. Dad. Mum. My parents. They died to protect me. I can't let their sacrifice be in vain. I can feel his power against my mind, trying to impose his will. His amusement at the pain he's inflicting on me. At the despair that would be felt by all of those I care for. That care for me. I can't let him hurt them anymore. I won't.

Suddenly his touch is gone and the burning sensation stops. For one blessedly glorious moment I feel completely free and clean in his presence, but the moment is swept away as his rage washes over me like a tide. I open my eyes and look at my arm. There is something dark and liquid there, like spilled black mercury. It pools and runs off my arm, dripping to the floor. My arm is bare and clean. Unmarked.

He's standing back watching me like the predator he is. His smile is chilling. "No matter. We can try again. And again. We have all the time in the world. There is no escape from me. You will join me or you will die."

My blood freezes at the sound of his laughter.

ooooo

Hell. This is hell. I will lose my mind before long and by then joining him will even seem logical. Isn't that what they call the Stockholm syndrome, when a hostage or prisoner bonds to their captors? I have to get out.

How can I face this? Dumbledore is sure that there is something in me that can vanquish him. The potential. But wouldn't the potential to destroy such power demand the same? Do I have to become like him to overpower him? Maybe this is the first step. Join him and learn until I can defeat him.

But then I would have lost everything. I would loose myself. I would defeat him just to take over. I would be as dark and twisted as him. The prophecy fulfilled at the cost of my soul, just like his megalomania cost him his.

I know he wasn't always like he is now. He once was a orphan kid tormented by his peers. I guess I can relate to that. We are alike. Do I have to turn out like him? Is this some twisted story in which I am his past and he is my future? Maybe I did find a timeturner and sent myself back (or forward) to stop all of it. Only I lost my memory and had to start over and Dumbledore is trying to make me change my revengeful ways.

Remember the sanity issue?

ooooo

I have a secret. I didn't really need the bond to Ron to be aware of him, or of anybody. I took a long time to notice but it's always been there. I could always tell that people were there. Where their minds are. What their intentions are. After the bond with Ron, it became more pronounced and I started to notice the details. He's much better at locating me because he can only feel me. I can feel everyone in the vicinity and it muddles the water.

I guess its from all these years bonded to he-who-renamed-himself, his moods and his presence make all others as clear as crystal. After I did the same with Ron, I realized I was doing it all the time. Ron balanced me out somehow and now my mind seems like a radar. I meditate to make sure I don't lose myself in there.

I can feel my friend's worry.

I can feel the minds around me. Not just Ron's Not just _his_. Sometimes this place crawls with them. Sometimes it's almost empty. Today it's the latter. There's a familiar mind out there, all sneers and desdain on the edges but a deep worry and concern concealed within. Maybe the Order's favorite spy has found me.

Maybe there's hope still.

ooooo

Today is different. He is so far away that only the faintest of prickles touches my mind. This place is practically empty. Today would be the day to make a move. If I had one. My head is clearer than it has been for days. I feel stronger. Maybe he's been neglectiong our torture sesions.

I run my fingers over the iron door trying to figure out a weak spot. There has to be one. There always is. That is also why there is light on dark tunnels so the hero can find his way out or the story won't work. The hero would trip in the dark and break his neck before he can rescue the nightdress-clad damsel in distress.

I have to stop reading Hermione's _other_ set of books. The ones she made me promise not to tell Ron about. Who would have thought that our resident genius had a romantic streak? I found out by accident when I grabbed what looked like an arithmacy book from her. It turned out to be something straight out of the romance section with the cover illusioned to show something else. She was so embarrassed. Being the good friend that I am, I threatened to tell Ron all about them. We compromised. She lent them to me in exchange for my silence. They're hilarious. And her reactions when I quote from them are worth all the trouble. I should have known, but she hides who she is behind the know-it-all persona all too well.

So here is my chance. How do I get myself angry enough to blast the door open like I did with my cupboard after I inflated dear Aunt Marge? Do I ask it nicely like Ali Baba and the forty thieves story?

I lay my hands on the door and concentrate on seeing it open. Make it real. Like magic. I can fell the flow of magic from my hands to the door and it starts to shake. Protesting and groaning. I'm begging and cajoling with an iron door. Sweat is covering me but I won't stop, I have to get out. That is my mantra. _Out, out, out._

I'm out. I'm on my knees on a corridor and the door is open behind me. There is some light in the corridor. I'm not going to complain about clichés unless I have to rescue someone beside myself at this time. I search for an exit keeping an eye out for the residents of this place. I have to get away before he comes back.

I find a room that calls to me for some reason. Somebody obviously lives here. I find a cloak, boots and a collection of wands in a drawer. Dozens of them piled up. We have a fallen wand collector among Voldie's associates. Some broken, some intact. All their cores slightly humming as my fingers run over them. It's tempting to take all of them, whoever owned them would not have wanted them to be like this. But there is no time or a way to take them all. Two wands lying together catch my eye and as I touch them sparks fly; gold from one, red from the other. As I hold them they hum louder. _The wand chooses the wizard_. These two chose me.

I pocket both of them, not daring to leave either behind. After that, it was easy to stun the two unsuspecting 'guards' and walk out. I turn back to see an old fortress, ruined and falling to pieces. Probably as old as Hogwarts, but not in as good repair. I walk out into a snow storm. I hold on to my mantra _Out, out, out_. I can't be caught now. There will be no mercy, only pain.

I stumble thought the snow drifts trying to get way as fast as I can. If Riddle has any sense, there will be obscuring charms and anti-apparition wards around the place, I need to be far away enough to try part B of the escape plan.

Not really thinking I'd get this far, part B has not been developed yet. Hopefully, it will be when I get far enough.

ooooo

Cold.

I take several unsteady breaths and wrap the stolen cloak tighter around me. He still doesn't know I'm gone, unless this is all a planned trick to give me false hope. I try to gather my wits around me and think about my options. I can't fly away. I can't _accio_ a broom to me, Merlin knows how far the nearest one would be or if it would even be a magic one. Muggles have brooms too.

Walking out till I find someone is not a good plan either. I'm just not strong enough for that and I have no idea where I am or where to head to. I might not meet a friendly, or even a wizard, in any case. Scratch that.

Apparition. I have been studying for my coming test, but I have not really done it. Not on purpose anyway. I'm pretty sure that time I was runing from Dudley's gang and found myself on the school roof was an accidental apparition. I just wanted to get away.

Like I do know.

I concentrate as hard as I can on the link to Ron, to where he is. With any luck, I'll run against the wards at Hogwarts, landing me outside the grounds and if I'm really lucky I won't splinch myself. Here's hoping anyway.

I hold on to the pinched wands and focus on being somewhere else. Close to my friend, being there in one piece. There's a sudden lightening feeling and I feel my feet leaving the ground. Like I jumped and I'm suspended in the air.

How interesting.

ooooo

There is still snow around me, but there is no storm here. I fall on my knees and try to see where I am. The landscape is spinning around me and I can't see a familiar landmark. The ones I could recognize don't move so much.

There is a figure in black coming towards me. Seems familiar for some undefined reason. Cloak flapping about a tall figure. Sneering voice. Surprise and disbelief mixed in. I know this person, the mind is familiar, but I can't find the name.

Is the snow coming at me or am I getting closer to it?

I'm lying on the snow and blackness takes me. Let's just hope I'm far away to make a difference.

**xxxxx**

A/N - The kiss that Harry reminisces can be seen in my short fic: **_Second look, first kiss_**. It will be more important to the later part of the story, but really did not fit into this particular thread except as background.

A/N #2 - I will not post the next chapter (Ron) until I see at least 5 reviews (good or bad guys, I'm not picky).


	3. Chapter 2 Ron

**To those who reviewed:**

**kellydofc -** I know it is a bit confusing at this point. First person narratives are a bit tunnel vision, which is why I'll be presenting the other POVs. Of course, I did write most of the important stuff at the same time so hopefuly there won't be any gaps by the time I'm done.

**eckles** - RW/HG is meant to be. You'll be seeing some of that for sure :-).

**Alie26 -** Thank you! I'll be updating this story every few days. I hope the finish soon.

**xxxxx**

Disclaimer - I still don't own a thing and my assistant to take over the world pulled the plug too soon and I have to start over on that issue.

Reminder - Each section written in first person point of view changing with each chapter. The timeline is overlapping, but each character will take you a bit further into the story.

**xxxxx**

**Chapter 2 - Ron**

I couldn't possibly describe the feeling of sudden loss. The abrupt empty space of where he was and now isn't. A void in my mind. I'm in the Great Hall waiting for him to show up for dinner when I feel a yank, almost like being portkeyed without the actual travel. I know something is wrong. Concentrate as much as I can, I cannot tell where he is anymore.

I blurt out. "Harry is in trouble."

Hermione looks at me as if I've lost my mind. I haven't. I only lost my best friend. I stand up, abandoning my dinner and get out of the Hall in a hurry.

I run through the hallways looking for him. Hermione follows me, probably more out of habit than anything else. I don't think she believed I knew anything, but then again when hasn't Harry been in trouble? It's like he has a bull's eye painted on his back. Maybe it's the scar. I'm sprinting now and I've left her behind in my urgency until I reach a corridor midway to our common room. There are no portraits here that I can ask if they saw him.

I close my eyes for a moment trying to focus where I last felt him. I'm sure he was striding right along this way towards us. A sudden flash of inspiration grips me, like seeing a completely different move on a chessboard when the way seems blocked. I raise my wand and call out.

"_Accio_ Marauder's Map." In a few moments the parchment is in my hand and I give it the password. Hermione just joined me and is looking at me while I try to scan the parchment looking for Harry's dot to show up. It's not there. My stomach plunges several floors below me.

"Ron, what is going on?"

"Harry is gone."

"What are you talking about?" She asks in confusion.

"He's not at Hogwarts anymore. Check for yourself."

She takes the parchment from me and searches it with a concentrated expression identical to the one she wears when she's working on a difficult arithmacy problem. Getting frustrated with all the moving dots on the sheet she pulls out her wand and waves it over the map.

"Show me Harry Potter." The dots freeze for a moment and they vanish. The map is now showing only the walls and passages of Hogwarts, but Harry's dot is still nowhere on the parchment. As the dots reappear, her face drains of all color.

"We have to tell Dumbledore. Right now." An edge of panic in her voice.

I nod and grab her hand to start towards the headmaster's office. We're practically running and I can feel Hermione struggling to keep up with me muttering under her breath something about 'long legs' but does not ask me to stop. We pass startled students and even some disapproving staff, but I refuse to slow down.

When we reach the gargoyle guarding the entrance I gasp out this month's password. "Licorice wands."

ooooo

Dumbledore's face as we explain goes from worry to a flicker of despair. He asks the portraits in his office to search the castle and question every one of the others. I can't explain how I knew he was gone. I make up a story that we'd agreed to meet at a certain time and he had not shown up. It's even true from a certain point of view.

When we show him the map he reaches for it with curiosity. I think he would have liked to ask more about it, but the situation does not permit it. Hermione and I just sit there while the portraits report in. Harry had been seen heading towards the Great Hall, but nobody saw him beyond the third floor corridor where I ended up.

"How did you know something was wrong, Mr. Weasley?" Those icy blue eyes hold none of their customary twinkle as they regard me.

"I don't know sir. I just did." I say.

I can't tell Dumbledore about the bond. We made an oath and we literally _can't_ say a thing about it until somebody figures it out and asks. Some of the odd looks we've seen on some people told us we were acting a bit weird. Well, weirder than usual for wizards. Even by Harry's standards.

Hermione is looking oddly at me, but does not speak. Her face is so pale and her eyes seem darker with worry, dull with despair. I feel like reaching out to her but I don't dare under the headmaster's stare. After all, prefects are supposed to be well behaved at all times. I could chuck the badge for all I care about that at this moment.

ooooo

Heads of Houses are summoned up and the situation explained. In what seems like a flash back to third year, all students are to settle down in the Great Hall while the staff searches the castle and grounds. Just like we did when Sirius broke into the castle in what now feels like decades ago.

With everyone together, Harry's absence is quickly noticed by most of the school. The whispers and gossip running like wildfire among the purple sleeping bags. Gryffindors and DA members question us but there is nothing to be said. All we know is that Harry is gone. Most everyone thinks he ran off on his own on some reckless adventure. I suspect that even Dumbledore is considering that. Harry certainly does not abide by the rules, but he knows his limits. Now, if Harry, Hermione and I were missing at the same time, you could bet we were up to something.

Harry promised he would not run off without me. That is why I came up with the bonding issue. He balked at it and it was not until I threatened to make a life bond without his consent (I wouldn't need it) that I finally convinced him to do a less serious one. One that we could break if it backfired on us.

We made the bond just a few weeks ago and we're still trying to figure out the extent of it. Like the book had promised, we are aware of the other's presence. Almost as if we could have reached out and touched all the time. We had been experimenting with tracking each other all over Hogwarts. He's good at finding unlikely places to sit still, but for some reason, I was always able to locate him easily. Most of the time he didn't know I was that close.

What surprised me the most when we first bonded was the fact that he actually controls his temper better than any Gryffindor would ever credit him with. Sometimes his anger is bubbling barely under the surface and he still does not lash out. When he practices his meditation it's just the opposite. He is so calm inside nothing could rattle him. The worst was finding out about the pain. He wouldn't admit it, but he's mostly in pain these days. He actually claimed that it was muted now that he was bonded to me and not just to the raging lunatic after him. Like I balanced things in his mind.

I can't feel where he is. I looked over the charm's properties and that would mean that he is further away that our current abilities to use it. But I _can_ still feel him out there. He's still alive.

I lay on the floor looking at magical ceiling in the Hall and listening to my fellow students fidget or sleep around me. Even Hermione has given in to fatigue. I can't sleep. I keep picturing Harry, cold and alone. Hurting. I'm not sure if its because of the bond or just because that is the more likely scenario. Voldemort is too cruel to just kill him off. He'll make it last.

ooooo

Professor Flitwick found Harry's wand lying in an empty classroom floor. The sight of it clenched my insides. Harry would never have gone off willingly without his wand.

Dumbledore asked me to keep it safe.

ooooo

The hours pass like an eternity, but the days seem to end too quickly. The longer he is missing the more unlikely it is we'll ever see him again. All of Gryffindor tower seems to be under a cloud. The others treat Hermione and I as if we were made of glass. Hermione's eyes look so sad all the time now. She's full of despair and I can't reassure her. Harry and I swore we would not tell anyone about the bond unless they figured it out on their own first. Knowing Hermione, we both thought it would be about month in her case. The others would take longer. Now the restraint chafes me and I can't do much about it except insist that he is alive.

I wish I could tell everyone what I know. I can't. I see Hermione's pale face. Dumbledore's worried frown. McGonagall's brave front. Neville's nervous stumbling. Ginny's bit lip. Sitting down at the Gryffindor table without Harry there, is torture. We unconsciously leave a space for him to join us, even though we know he won't. The same thing happens in the common room, his favorite chair is always empty. As if we're all hoping it will entice him back.

The DA still met last night, but we are without our leader. Without it's heart, the team just stumbled along practicing what he taught us. Cho broke down in tears in the middle of a simple _expeliarmus_. Ernie's usual pompous airs were gone as he set his face for the next spell. Even Zachariah's comments were subdued.

For which we are all thankful, of course.

But we still need you back, mate.

I will go mad not being able to do anything. I can feel the bond mark on my arm throbbing as Harry's mind struggles with something in whatever hellhole he is. I'm fairly sure he's with _him_. Old Tom. He's doing something to Harry. I can feel it.

Harry is terrified.

It's a shock to find out that the bravest person you know is afraid.

And he is brave. I remember that first meeting in the Hogwarts Express. He was alone. He had no real idea of what the wizarding world was like. He knew about Voldemort and was still un-afraid to say his name. Him, of all people. Even Herm, being a Muggle-born, picked up the You-Know-Who thing quickly. He had no idea of what he was getting into and he still boarded up the train and left.

After I met the Dursleys the first time I figured out he wanted to escape, but putting up with them for so long was a test of courage if I ever saw one.

I saw his determination when we were going after the Philosopher's stone. That is how I knew he was the one that had to go on. And all of that Chamber of Secrets business, when I heard his voice telling me he would go ahead and look for Ginny when the passageway was blocked, I was sure I would never see him or Gin again. But I did.

Then the Triwizard, I was such an idiot when it started. As if Harry had ever sought out more of the spotlight than he already has. But I was jealous. I would have entered my name if I could have. And I would have been toast in front of that dragon and that would have been the last of me.

Seeing him seethe under Dumbledore's silence and Umbridge's tortures was bad. Waking him up from one of his nightmares or visions is worse. The worst was seeing him after Sirius died. I know now everybody believes him now, but I'm sure Harry would prefer to continue his cutting quill detentions if that would bring Sirius back.

I would join him.

ooooo

I can't believe that Hermione has still not figured it out. I'm acting like I'm having bloody out of body experiences, but she still has not noticed anything.

I know she's worried about him. Who wouldn't be? Maybe there's something else there? Maybe she _likes_ Harry. Well why not? Harry is the best. He's a hero in every sense of the word. Not a storybook hero, a real one. Who actually has to struggle for what he achieves and most of the time he didn't even want to do it. He just does it. If anyone deserves the attentions of someone like Hermione, it's Harry.

So why do I feel so bad?

Like I don't know.

Contrary to popular opinion, I'm not stupid. I know how I feel about her. She's the first person that comes to mind in the mornings and the last person I think about when I fall asleep. She's twice as likely to show up on my dreams.

Don't get me wrong. I'm a bloke. Of course I think about girls _that way_. But she's different. Believe it or not, in more than half the fantasies I have about Hermione, she's fully clothed and all of our feet are in the floor (like Mum always says when a hint of a snog is mentioned). It's mostly tame stuff. Yet so important. Spending time with her. Seeing each other off to our respective jobs. Sharing a houseful of children together.

Yes, children. I happen to know what our children would look like. I would have named them, but I know she'll override whatever I decide. And I wouldn't have it any other way. She'll fill our home with books and hex me when we quarrel. And I'm betting we'll have some major ones.

I know, I know. Harry is the hero. I'm the sidekick. The hero always gets the girl. The sidekick is the comic relief. But this isn't a story; life doesn't always work that way.

Hey, I have to keep my hopes up some way.

ooooo

Gin looks like hell lately. I thought that she had given up on Harry _that way_. Maybe I'm just seeing too much. Of all my siblings, Ginny is the one closest to me. For a long time, it was just she and I and we gave the twins a fair run for their money on the prank situation at home. Gin would get away with murder as Mum never believed her 'little girl' would do anything quite like that.

I let her down that first year here. I left her alone. Maybe if I had paid more attention I would have seen what was happening sooner. Prevented her from going down to the Chamber that day.

She has grown up. After the Chamber of Secrets she had to. I'm glad she did put that obsession of hers regarding Harry behind her. Don't misunderstand me. Harry getting together with Ginny would be great. No one but my best mate would be good enough for her. Not like that idiot Michael, or even Dean.

Of course, as her brother I'd much rather she joins up a nunnery somewhere, but I think that Gin would object. So would the other nuns. The only other option is finding some bloke good enough for her.

Enter Harry.

It's no secret she had a major crush on him, or rather on her made up version of him. To Gin-gin, Harry was always the story prince that came to rescue her. Which he did in her first year, but that doesn't make it _true_. The _real_ Harry is a lot more complicated and interesting than her _hero_ Harry.

I have to say this for Harry. He never teased or made much ado about her crush. Never took advantage of the fact that she would have willingly snogged him out of his mind. I know a lot of blokes who would have used her in that same situation. I'm glad that didn't happen.

Maybe now that she has the blinders off regarding who Harry really is, there's a chance for something there. If he can get past the fact that she is my sister. With all my ranting regarding Michael and Dean, I may have spooked him off.

Note to self: Tell them both that I wouldn't mind.

ooooo

Remus dropped by today. He looks like something the cat dragged in, or a wolf in his case. You'd think that being this close to the new moon would let him look a bit better. Harry turning up missing has devastated him. Harry is his last connection to his friends. The legendary Marauders. I remember Gred and Forge's faces when they found that that their teacher was _Moony_. They suddenly understood why he'd been able to catch them in their usual antics in the classrooms.

He assured us that everything possible is being done to locate Harry.

For some reason I do not feel comforted.

Things are bad all over. Death Eater activity had grown bolder these last couple of days and the Dark Mark has been turning up everywhere. Whole families have gone missing, several of them with Muggle relations. The Order and the Ministry are trying to get a handle on it and they do not have a lot of time for one missing orphan kid. Even one as famous as The-Boy-Who-Lived.

Bollocks, I say. Harry is the key to everything. If anyone does not see that, they have not been paying attention. I think that without Harry the war is lost. I know Dumbledore knows this yet the poor man is split in all directions and can't make the Ministry help him find one missing student when there are so many in danger.

ooooo

Ten days. Ten bloody days missing. Dumbledore looks worn down. He told us today that the Order has not been able to locate or even get a hint of Harry's possible whereabouts. If it were up to me I'd give some veritaserum to Snape and get him to tell all of the DE secrets. Something is bound to be helpful there.

But even Snape looks worried when he thinks nobody notices him. I even managed an E on my latest potions term paper. A sure sign that the world is coming to an end. On the whole, the school is normal. More than the average number of students is staying over the holidays. Their parents must think they are safer here.

The Prophet carried an article a few days ago informing the wizarding community of the Boy-Who-Lived's disappearance, along with some snide comments regarding his past behavior. Hinting that he'd taken off on his own as he was off his rocker. How quickly they changed their tune. Again.

I insisted on staying at Hogwarts, Ginny was invited to Luna's and after some convincing she agreed to go for a few days at least. Hermione stayed over at the school too. It's useless. No matter where we actually are, we can't help. We can only worry, we can do that anywhere. I know Mum was disappointed, but I'd rather be here and do homework than be at the Burrow with her mollycoddling all of us.

It's midnight again and I can't sleep. The fire in the common room is more entertaining than the canopy on my bed so that is where I am. Pacing in front of the fire. Half expecting Harry to show up and drag me back to bed as he did more than once, like I did for him.

Something is different tonight. My connection to Harry over these past few days has varied. Sometimes I'm sure he's being hurt. Sometimes I'd guess he was OK. Most of the time it's just a feeling of loneliness. Tonight there's restlessness. I'm pretty sure he's up to something. I hope so. Merlin, I hope so.

Find your way back my friend. I miss you. We all do.

ooooo

Charlie once asked my why I became Harry's friend. Back then I couldn't give a satisfactory answer, but I've thought about it a lot these last few days that he's been gone.

By all rights I should have walked away from it. The mere thought of being the Boy-Who-Lived's friend should have been enough to steer me away from him. Like Gin, I had my own ideas of what he would be like. I think the fact that I turned out completely wrong made me stick around at first.

The-Boy-Who-Lived. Harry hates that title. Hearing the story of how he survived makes him larger than life. You almost expect someone ten-foot tall, shooting energy bolts out of his hands. I had realized ages before that he'd be in my year if he went to Hogwarts. That day on the train I was hoping to catch a glimpse of our world's hero.

Instead I found myself sharing the compartment with a skinny dark-haired kid with clothes even more worn out and ill fitting than my own. Mine were used, his were ragged. A kid with a pocketful of money who treated it like he'd like nothing more than share it with someone. How can you not be interested in someone like that?

ooooo

A soft noise behind me jolts me out of my brooding. I turn and I see Hermione standing there with an unfocused look in her eyes and her arms wrapped around herself. She looks so small and vulnerable. Even her hair, usually so wild and alive, looks limp and sad.

"Did I wake you?" I ask. With less people around even small noises can disturb. I'm pretty sure I was stamping around and muttering curses.

She shakes her head "No. I couldn't sleep either." She says as she walks towards the hearth, towards me. She makes as if to sit down in her usual spot when her eyes find Harry's favorite chair and stops. Her eyes are filling with tears, but she's not making a sound.

Without a thought I move to her and put my arms around me. I can feel her surprise but she immediately melts against me, her tears are running down her faces and onto my chest, her arms hold on to me for support as she cries. I rest my face against the top of her head. I'm pretty sure I'm murmuring stuff, the kind that Mum did when we were little and scared. It doesn't really matter what it is it's just the sound of a comforting voice.

"I'm so afraid Ron. What's going to happen now?"

"We'll get him back, Hermione."

"How can you still believe that? We've lost. Harry was the key and now we're all doomed."

"No. There's always hope."

I don't think she heard me. "I'm so scared. I'm just a muggleborn. How can my family survive this? Maybe they are right, I don't belong here. I wish..."

Shocked, I put my hands on her shoulders to push her back and look at her face. "Don't talk like that. I know you're worried about your family, but don't ever think you're not good enough or that you don't belong. Hogwarts was created for those like you. If magic just stayed in the same families there would be no real need for schools, a Ministry or anything like that. We'd have died out centuries ago. But magic does not make distinctions, it chooses at random to make sure it survives."

She's looking with surprise at me. I don't think I've ever said anything as eloquent as I just did.

"But Harry is dead and we're going to lose. Magic will die in the end."

"Harry is not dead. I will not give up on him and I won't let you." I'm almost shaking her.

"Ron, you're being stubborn. Of course he's dead. Voldemort will have killed him by now." She says starting to cry again.

"Voldemort can't kill Harry. He's too afraid to try." In my anger I just said his name and didn't even flinch. She's the one that is shocked now. She looks at me like she doesn't know me. "Harry is alive. I know it. He's hanging by a thread, but I won't let him give up." I insist.

"How do you know? How can you know? Not even..." She grows quiet as she regards me for a moment. "What did you and Harry do?"

I let her go and my hand runs through my hair as I consider her question. Will it be enough for me to finally tell her?

"You've been acting strange. You've been brooding about something even more than Harry. You two did something. That is why you both were acting so odd. That is how you knew he'd been taken."

"Yes."

"What?"

I pull out my wand and push my left sleeve to show my wrist. I murmur the charm and the glamour falls away revealing a shining white mark there. It almost seems to glow, like it was made of light itself. Her eyes go wide as she looks at it, her hand reaching out and touching it.

"A magic bond?"

"Yes."

ooooo

"Why didn't you tell me?"

We're sitting down facing the fire. I explained what I had insisted on doing and Harry's reluctance. How only the threat of a full-fledged life bond made him accept. Her brown eyes are hurt and accusing.

"I couldn't tell you until you figured it out. Harry made me swear on it."

"Why? Am I not his friend too?"

"He knew you'd want to do it too. He didn't want to place you in danger. I had already committed to it. I swore I would be with him not matter what."

"Who chose the mark?"

"It chooses itself. We were a bit surprised when it showed up. I said it was appropriate." I say as I look at the lighting shaped mark., a mirror shape of the one in Harry's forehead.

"Can you really feel him?"

"Yeah. Faint, but he's there." I concentrate on the feeling. "He... He feels so alone."

"Remind him he's not." She says as she places her hand over the mark. I can feel her magic mixing with my own, with his, as we sit by the fire waiting for dawn. I fall half asleep and dream of locked doors and snow storms. Of choosing wands.

ooooo

He's close. I snap awake, feeling a tingling sensation on my arm. Hermione is curled up beside me and I hate to disturb her, but I feel the need to move. To do something. Harry's closer.

Not in Hogwarts, but very close. Hogsmeade probably. I concentrate on the feeling and it comes clearer. Hogsmeade definitely, near the Shrieking Shack. Cold and exhaustion pours over to me.

Hermione stirs and looks at my face.

"You can feel him?" She asks excitedly.

"He's back. He's in Hogsmeade. Find Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore." I say. In a burst of excitement I grab her face and kiss her, without a further word I jump away from the sofa and run up the dorm. I pull a coat over my pajamas and making a snap decision, I grab Harry's Firebolt and fly out the window with it. I need to hurry. He's cold and hurt and I need to hurry. I catch a glimpse of Hermione peering out the common room window her fingers brushing her lips.

Her lips. Why did I just kiss her? Talk about your unromantic moments. She's going to kill me when I get back.

It was worth it. In spite of everything, a grin keeps sneaking up to my face as the cold washes over my hair.

ooooo

I reach Hogwarts' main gate in what seems an eternity in spite of the Firebolt's speed. The cold wind is biting into my skin but I pay it no mind. I spot a walking figure being followed by something. I fly closer and land a few yards ahead.

It's Professor Snape. His custumary sneer has taken a vacation as he concentrates on the floating shape beside him. A gurney floating in the air and a crumpled shape laying on it. Harry. I almost lose it when I see the shape he's in, but I need to hold on until I get him help. It won't help if I pass out.

The potions master's eyes snap to attention at my approach. I can see the momentary flicker of annoyance at my presence to be replaced by what on anyone else I would call relief. He doesn't know or care how I got here, just to make the most of it. Detention and point taking can wait, I guess.

"Come on Weasley. You can take him to Madam Pomfrey faster on that thing than I can. I'll get the headmaster."

We bind the gurney to the broom and he bids me to hurry. His eyes show some curiosity, but he does not question me. The very real concern of Harry's condition makes every explanation secondary.

I fly carefully on the way back. Not the breakneck speed that this thing can achieve for fear of dumping Harry to the ground. He looks like he would not survive it.

Hold on, my friend.

ooooo

My brain seems frozen at the state he's in. I can't believe anyone could be hurt this much and still manage to walk out of whatever hellhole he was.

The fact that he's my best mate makes it worse. A brother by choice if not by blood.

I help Madam Pomfrey mechanically. Letting my anger simmer on the side. And it is anger. Rage. Cold murderous rage at whoever dared to do this to him. I don't care who it was. I won't let this happen again. I feel quite capable of killing as I see how his skin is bruised and burnt.

ooooo

He's slipping away and I can feel it. He's right on the brink of life. My legs feel like butter and if it wasn't for Hermione's hand on my arm I'm sure I'd be on the floor. I can see what the restoring spell that the nurse and headmaster are doing. I can feel how they're attempting to revive him.

Problem is, part of him doesn't want to come back.

It feels like he'd much rather move on.

Can I blame him?

**xxxxx**

A/N - I did not get the 5 reviews I wanted, but there werea number of hits. Maybe for this chapter.


	4. Chapter 3 Hermione

To my reviewers:

**kellydofc:** I hope this one does not fall short.

**Alie26:** Thank you. :-)

**eckles:** You really got all that from what little I wrote about the bond? You should be writing this, not me. I'm having Hermione explain the concept a bit as well as the dangers. She's probably the only character that could do it with a straight face.

**ooooo**

Disclaimer - Regretably I don't own a thing, I'm not making any money out of it or gaining any fame. World domination plans are in shambles and it will take some time to setup again. Until then, J.K.R. and Warner can rest easy.

**xxxxx**

**Chapter 3 - Hermione**

It's true. Horribly true. Harry's missing. They found his wand. He would not have gone off without it, would he?

I'm so scared for him. If he was truly taken out of Hogwarts. Out of the supposedly safest place there is. Much as I hate to think it, I'd rather he ran off on his own than be captured. I'd rather be angry with him for being reckless than sacred for him if he's prisoner.

Ron almost took my head off for saying so.

He insists that Harry would not leave on his own without telling us. I'd like to believe he's right, but I know Harry doesn't want us to follow him. We all know that Harry is the one that will have to face Voldemort and he's rather keep us away if he can.

Like we're going to let him do it on his own.

ooooo

Ron looks lost without Harry around. He won't even make jokes anymore. There's a brooding intensity to him that can only be compared to Harry's in one of his bad days.

Yet even in his worst moments, he can make me feel better. A touch of his hand on mine, his arm on my shoulders. His smile. I don't want to read too much into these actions. He's probably just being a friend consoling another friend. I won't read too much into it, like I did with that perfume bottle last year.

It was a nice gift. A girl gift. I thought he was trying to tell me something. That's why my thanks sounded so odd. _Unusual_. Gods, I've read hundreds of books, my vocabulary is extensive. How come I couldn't say something more appropriate?

I think now it was just an apology for the 'you're a girl' comment he made in fourth year. Letting me know he hadn't forgotten.

That was it, right?

I can't believe I'm mooning over my best friend. Who was totally oblivious of the fact I was female for ages. Who is as stubborn as hell, pigheaded to a fault, disorganized in excess. Loyal beyond anything I've ever met, honest to the point of bluntness, chivalrous when it's important, devilishly handsome.

Merlin help me.

ooooo

Gods I miss him.

I miss the irritating way he rolls his eyes whenever I ask about his homework. The way he and Ron share exasperated looks whenever I mention S.P.E.W. Little do they know half the time I mention it just to get a reaction from them.

I miss the way he quotes from the novels I've loaned him to try and make me blush. Which I do most of the time. He's kept his promise and he has not said a word to Ron about my little secret, but the way he does his best to make me betray myself is a lot of fun. Our own private joke.

I miss his laughter. Or more to the point, his laugher when it's mixed with Ron's. Harry does not have a lot to laugh about and it usually comes about a bit hesitant. Like he's expecting someone to slap him for doing it. When Ron's laughter joins his, it becomes freer, unburdened. I think the sound of two people laughing is one the most magical things in the world. Especially when it's those two.

Not having him around has made me realize just how much Ron and I need him. If you had asked me a couple of weeks ago, I would have said that Ron and I take care of Harry. Like foster parents. We worry about him. In truth, without him we are _both_ a bit lost. Harry is the axle of our little trio, he's the mediator (most of the time), the confidant, the cornerstone, the leader. Without him, we probably wouldn't be friends.

Scary thought. I wouldn't know Ron like I do if it hadn't been for Harry. I wouldn't know about his great heart and unassuming ways. For all he complains about being in the shadows of his brothers and his best friend, whenever he does get the spotlight he mostly shrugs it away as not important.

He probably hasn't even noticed he's one of the most coveted after guys in the school. Sure, Harry is famous and those eyes of his are a real attention grabber, but Ron... Ron is... Ron is sexy. I admit it. He makes me shiver in ways that are not in any way related to the temperature of the room.

And I know I'm not the only one. However, being the girl in our little trio does give a lot of control over where the boys' attentions wander. If I keep the interference long enough, I'm sure Ron will notice me. He will. I know he will. I hope he will.

ooooo

I can't sleep. I decided to stay over at Hogwarts over the holidays, but now I almost regret my decision. Most everyone stayed. Parents are scared and would rather their children not travel at all. The train trip was too attractive a target for an attack.

My parents are disappointed, I know. I haven't spent much time with them these past two years. I think they understand but it must hurt them too. I'm pulling away. They think they have lost me to the wizarding world.

In a way they have.

ooooo

Harry is... He must be...

No. I won't even think it.

He has to be...

If he is. If he is. Then we're lost. Harry was... Harry is the one that can defeat him. I know that is what the prophecy said. Harry wouldn't tell us, but it's the logical assumption. He knew. He knows and he wouldn't tell us.

Harry is the one. Or at the very least Voldemort thinks so. That's only thing that could explain the personal attacks on him, ever since he was a baby. The only way he could have survived this long.

But if he is...

He isn't. He's just missing. He's been taken prisoner. Ron insists that we would all know if Harry had been killed. Voldemort would not have hesitated to make public the death of The-Boy-Who-Lived. He's waiting for something. There's time to find him.

Why haven't they found him?

Why hasn't he escaped?

He must be...

He's not. I have to believe that. If I don't, there will only be despair.

ooooo

Midnight already. I give up on sleep and walk down to the common room hoping the fire there might soothe me a bit. And he is there. Pacing across the room like some caged creature. Muttering to himself. Or to someone else.

I walk ahead to my favorite spot. Opposite Harry's. I just stare at it. I can't move. Why isn't he here too? My eyes are filling up with tears, but I don't want to cry. I refuse to cry.

Suddenly Ron has his arms around me. Somehow this simple action breaks all my barriers completely. I'm clinging to him and crying like there's nothing left. He's murmuring soothing words. Like my Dad used to do when I woke up from a nightmare. Only this time I won't wake up from the nightmare. I'm living it.

I'm babbling, all of my fears coming out without checking them.

He's furious at me. He's scolding me for believing I'd be better off without magic. For believing Harry is...

I wish I could believe like he does.

Is it belief or something else? I look into his eyes trying to find comfort and I see it.

He _knows_. He doesn't _believe_. He _knows_.

ooooo

I stare at the mark on his arm. I can't believe they did that without telling me. It was dangerous. Only Aurors are supposed to use such bonds. I bet that's where they got it. Ron has been investigating all he can about it, I'm sure he's read more of that material than the stuff for his NEWTS. But that's just him.

Brilliantly clever only at what really interests him.

He explains how they did it and when and their weird behavior is somewhat explained now. The way they would always know what the other was feeling. Where they were. I guess if Harry had not been taken I would have figured it out earlier. But with only one of them here...

That's how Ron knew Harry had left the castle immediately. That's how he knows he's alive.

He can feel Harry's life, or energy, his magic. As sure as you can feel where your hand is in relation to the rest of you.

Of all the stubborn, idiotic, dangerous stunts they have done, this one takes the lead. It's also breathtakingly brilliant. I wonder if it could be done with more than two people? If it can be used to help when the other is hurt or weak? I need to see that book. It couldn't be that hard to modify.

They had better let me join or I'll hex them both myself. How dare they leave me out?

ooooo

_Anima Fratella._ Brotherly Souls.

I try to remember all I can about such bonds. I can't believe Ron threatened Harry with a life bond. That would mean that Ron could have opted to die in Harry's place and Harry would have had to live with that. Well, I believe he could and would do it. Harry knows it too. Probably why he gave in. Having someone else die for him would be the last thing Harry wants.

Still. They did something pretty major anyway. A bond requires absolute trust on both parties. I've always known that what they felt for each other ran deeper than just friendship. Harry is the brother that Ron was missing and vice versa. Ron was and will always be the one Harry will miss the most (even more than Sirius). I have to content myself to being a close second.

For two people who are so different, they share a lot in common. Like the fanatism for Quidditch. Which to me is just an impressive way to get yourself nominated to the Darwin Awards. Or winning it. Both are impressively loyal. So stupidly brave sometimes, that I just want to bang their heads together for risking themselves like that. Could they be a little bit selfish, just once?

So, for the bond to work they have to trust each other completely. If I remember correctly, the main advantage is knowing where the other is and be able know it they are OK. Even if one is in pain, the other will know, but will not be incapacitated by it and thus be able to help. Aurors use them with their partners to work and be able to help each other in dangerous situations, to be able to apparate to each other's location.

By doing this, they have a connection like Fred and George's, able to follow each other's train of thought easier. Thank Circe they haven't started to finish each other's sentences yet. That would be really annoying.

The real challenge is the personality mix. Harry is closed off. A result of growing up with those horrible Dursleys. Keeps everything inside where it won't even hurt him if possible. Ron is the opposite. You can see almost every emotion in his eyes and face. One of the things that endear him to me. He's almost incapable of lying.

The downside is the closer they are, the more the bond will expand. I think that is why Harry was doing so much of the meditation and occlumency exercises. He wanted to spare Ron as much as he could, not only to close his mind to Riddle, but to protect Ron from what he is going through. Ron, being the stubborn, wonderful idiot that he is, just made himself as open as he could, because he wants to help Harry in any way he can.

If either one of them... died. The bond would immediately break as to not hurt the other. They would only feel the loss of their friend and brother, not the physical pain of it. Although the minutes before it could be pretty bad, I suppose. I'm guessing this is why Harry agreed to this one and not to any of the others, which usually have more dangerous repercussions when they are severed. Still, I can't help but worry.

With my hand on the mark I can feel the power of it. How their friendship strengthens it. I can feel a whisper of Harry through it. He's alone, probably scared and certainly cold.

I sit with Ron with my head on his shoulder. Both just waiting for morning so we can continue pretending we're fine while our friend is missing.

ooooo

I can see it in his face. He knows. He's right. Harry's close by. Ron's face is alight with relief. He grabs me in his excitement.

He kissed me. He just kissed me.

He kissed me and ran to his dorm leaving me confused and annoyed. Happier than I ever thought I would be last night. Harry is on his way to being safe and Ron just kissed me.

I watch him as he flies towards the main gate and I rush out of the common room towards the medical ward. Ron urged me to find Madam Pomfrey. Harry is hurt. He could feel it. That's why he rushed the way he did. Absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he kissed me.

Please, don't let it be that.

I'm running through the halls sure I will run into Filch or worse, Snape. Who won't believe anything I say and will probably just take points for the sake of it. I don't care about the rules at the moment. I have a hurt friend coming in.

I reach the infirmary without incident. Madam Pomfrey is already awake, but I can't make her understand what is happening. She thinks I'm delirious. She would have put _me_ to bed if we had not seen a broom fly inside the ward with something in tow. Ron looks worried and pale.

Oh gods, Harry.

ooooo

I watch as the nurse examines Harry, the shock at his presence giving away to the urgency of his injuries. With Ron's help, the reminder of Harry's clothes are slowly pulled away to reveal his chest. He seems to be covered in bruises and cuts, but the really appalling thing is how emaciated he is. Harry has always been thin, but with the quality of coiled steel. You would think twice before messing with him. Now he looks frail, skin stretched tightly over bones and tendons.

"Several broken ribs, extended exposure to _cruciatus_, beginning of frostbite..." Murmurs the nurse waving her wand over Harry.

"His back.." Gasps Ron as he removes what remains of the shirt. He places what's left of Harry's glasses on the bedside table. They look crushed.

Madam Pomfrey flinches as she examines Harry's back and shoulders. From were I'm standing, I can see the marks and cuts that cover it. Are those burns?

"Fire whip. I haven's seen marks like this since Grindewald..." They lay Harry on his stomach so she can start cleaning the wounds.

Ron finds a couple of wands in the folds of the cloak. He sets them away carefully, pushing the rest of the ragged clothing away. I see his hand waver over his own wand as if deciding whether to burn the clothes up. As if destroying them would erase what happened to his friend.

ooooo

The nurse is too busy to set up the usual privacy screens as she works and I move away to give Harry some dignity. Ron stubbornly stays were he is helping the nurse in what he can. His voice is steady and his manner professional, only the icy glint of his eyes and the set of his jaw speak volumes of what he must be feeling at seeing his friend (our friend) in this state.

Harry's breathing seems to be getting shallower. Ron's voice urgently saying. "Something wrong..."

"Nonsense, Mr. Weasley. He's just exhausted."

"Please check. He's fading," an edge of panic.

Another complicated wave of her wand and Madam Pomfrey's face turns pale she starts working faster and waves of shimmering light appear over the bed. At that moment, the hurried figures of the headmaster and Snape enter the ward. Dumbledore hurries over to the bedside, his face asking the question for him.

"Magical Depletion, Albus..." Pomfrey says hurriedly.

The old teacher pulls out his own wand and joins the spell the nurse has been casting, the shimmering light brightens and seems to envelop Harry. Ron moves aside, slightly unsteady on his feet, his eyes not leaving his friend's face, I walk over to him and place a hand on his arm to steady him.

I can feel Ron's fear. He'll never admit it of course. Not even to me. He's concentrating as hard as he can. To the point of passing out.

_He's fading._ His words make me fear for both of them. Surely Harry wouldn't give up now? Not when he's finally safe. Not when Ron is standing right beside him. I hold on to Ron and concentrate every ounce of my will on the bond mark in his wrist. Trying to bolster Ron's efforts. To reach out to the both of them. Pull them back safely.

ooooo

A deep shuddering breath is heard from Harry and those green eyes open. He blinks in confusion, a mixture of relief and despair in his face. His eyes quickly find where Ron is standing and holds the gaze. I can almost feel a week's conversations happening in a blink. The nurse hurries over to her cupboard, surely looking for some additional ointments or potions.

"Ron." More a croak than actual voice. Ron just grins and nods at his friend.

The gaze changes direction and find mine. I'm not sure if Harry can actually see me without his glasses, but his stare pierces me. "Herm..." Glasses or no glasses, I smile at him anyway.

Harry closes his eyes for a moment and there is a murmur, "Professor Snape?"

The potions master had been about to leave the ward when this question is asked, surprising all present. Harry's voice somehow carried over to where he is and it stiffens his usual poise and manner. Gathering himself, he turns back and walks closer to the bed where the son of his childhood nemesis lays.

The green eyes waver and find his teacher's. "Thank you."

"I just found you Potter. I wasn't about to leave you lying there."

There is a flicker of a smile on Harry's face "That was not all you did."

"Potter, you're imagining things."

The flicker comes back and the green eyes are boring into his teacher's without flinching. "Right."

Snape just stares at his student with a blank face, "I take my students' safety seriously Potter. Even yours." Some of his customary sneer returns as he continues. "However, this escapade will not excuse you from handing in your work."

There is a definite hint of amusement and mischievousness in her friend's face now. "Already finished yours."

ooooo

Ron is trying hard not to snicker at the now stunned professor. I have to admit I am too. Madam Pomfrey returns and clucks us all away while she sets to binding and bandaging Harry's wounds. I see him wince at some of the ministrations, but does not complain. I notice only Dumbledore had stood his ground and had not left the bedside.

Ron and I move away. We know that if we stay quiet and unobtrusive, the nurse will not force us to go away just yet. I feel quite willing to hex her if she tries. As long as I can stay in the room, I won't complain.

"Weasley." A silky voice interjects.

"Yes sir?" Responds Ron politely. Amazing. He _can_ do respectful when he wants to

"How did you know where he was?" Comes the almost whispered demand.

"I just did." Ron states matter of factly.

Snape draws himself up to his full height, which does not seem to make much of an impression on Ron, as he is actually taller. Snape's stare bores into Ron's face, but Ron just gives his best I'm-just-the-sidekick expression.

"You have your secrets, professor. So do I." Ron says evenly.

There is a glint in Snape's eyes, which had it been anyone else, I would have described as grudging respect. With one last sneer, the potions master leaves the ward in a swish of black robes. I can't help but remember one of Harry's comments _Snape does like his dramatic exits_. Ron's arm is around my shoulders, mine is around his waist.

Funny how well we seem to fit together.

ooooo

The tension I had been feeling for what seems forever is finally going away. We settled on one of the beds watching Madam Pomfrey and Harry. Dumbledore is pacing near the bed, not looking at Harry, but his concentration is focused there nonetheless. It is not until Harry refuses one of the nurse's potions that we all focus again.

"No."

"You need your rest, Mr. Potter."

"No more dreamless sleep. I was alone and drugged too long. I don't even know how long."

"You've been away from Hogwarts for twelve days and four hours." The headmaster says.

Harry turns towards the headmaster "They _were_ only feeding me once a day. I wasn't sure."

_Once a day!_ My stomach grumbles sympathetically and Ron looks shocked. He's about to tear to the kitchen for some food. So am I for that matter. Pomfrey tries to make Harry drink while he is distracted, but the glass flies away from her hand and settles on a table several meters away. She looks surprised and shocked and looks at the headmaster reproachfully, but he only shakes his head in denial.

"No. I'd rather have nightmares." Harry says firmly. _Harry did that!_

"I think Mr. Potter would do better with some nourishment Poppy. Magical Depletion and all that. I need to talk to him."

"Albus..."

"Poppy, please ask the house-elves to bring some food. I'm sure Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger would like to have breakfast with him after they've dressed themselves."

Ah. Dumbledore is hinting that he wants us to leave, besides, he does have a point, we're still in our pajamas. Madam Pomfrey looks ready to hex someone at being dismissed. Her lips are pressed into a thin line in a very good imitation of Professor McGonagall's.

"Mr. Weasley. Miss Granger. Get yourselves dressed and come back in about half an hour. Don't tell _anyone_ that Mr. Potter is back."

Harry throws a desperate look at us, but does not ask anything. He wants us to stay, but is really not strong enough to contradict the headmaster.

ooooo

We hurry back to Gryffindor tower and the castle seems to be waking up around us. However, our housemates are dead to the world as I hurry over to the girls' side and get dressed as fast as I can. I hesitate a bit before the fifth years' door, but I remember the warning tone in Dumbledore's voice. _Don't tell anyone_. Ginny is going to kill me later.

Ron takes a bit longer than me, long enough for me to me annoyed at him. Doesn't he want to get back?

He finally shows up with a couple of things in his hand and rushes on towards the portrait hole as if I were the one delaying us.

"What took you so long?"

"This," he says holding up a pair of glasses and a wand. "I thought that Harry would prefer his own wand. And the glasses he was wearing were beyond repair. Too much of the lenses were missing for a _reparo_."

"Good idea." My annoyance vanishes as I contemplate both items.

ooooo

We quickly reached the ward and hesitate a bit before entering. I can see through the open door that Dumbledore is still talking to Harry. Both of them look miserable, yet Harry is steadfast avoiding looking at the headmaster so he may be unaware of old wizard's distress. With what seems a final word we see Dumbledore reach out and place a hand on Harry's shoulder. In that moment, Harry breaks down, his face and body crumpling in despair and old teacher holds him gently and tenderly, almost as if Harry was his own child.

Harry breaking down. Harry who has never let us see him crying or even despairing. Brooding yes, defeated never. Harry who is stronger than anyone I know.

Ron pulls me away from the door. He does not want us to intrude in such a moment. I can feel my eyes watering and I can see that Ron's eyes are bright. He's holding me against his chest and an eternity passes. Until we can hear Madam Pomfrey coming back and talking. We walk tentatively inside as Dumbledore makes to leave.

As the headmaster passes us he gives a short order. "Don't question him. He will talk if he wants to." Dumbledore's customary twinkle is absent from his eyes and he looks older than ever. I nod obediently and see Ron mirror the movement.

What can you say to a friend that has being through hell and somehow came back?

ooooo

Conversation was easier that I thought it would be. After a few moments when I half hugged him (being careful with his injuries) and Ron clapped his shoulder gently. Harry didn't grimace or try to pull away from our touch. His smile turns into a grin as he realizes he really made it back. He escaped.

For now anyway.

Following Dumbledore's instruction, we do not ask anything about his ordeal. We share breakfast like we have for almost five years. He is not eating much, but he seems to savor each bite. Part of me hates whoever did this to him, the rest of me is glad to have him back.

It's surprising how easy we fall into our usual morning routine of buttering toast and serving juice. Talking about Quidditch and classes. Harry demanding to know why there wasn't any training while he was gone.

Ron gave him back his wand and his spare glasses. Harry grins as he feels his own wand again. Multicolored sparks fly out of it as he waves it around experimentally. He frowns for a moment and reaches for the two wands he brought from wherever he was.

"I wonder to who they belonged."

As he touches them, sparks fly too. Not as many as with his own. I'm surprised he was able to find another one, less alone two. I noticed he has a hard time when using other wands but his own.

"Maybe Mr. Olivander would now." I suggest.

His face lights up at the suggestion. "You're probably right." He places them away again reluctantly.

ooooo

Madam Pomfrey looks at us as if we're nothing more than trespassers in her ward.

"I bet Dumbledore ordered her to let us stay."

Harry laughs at that. "I wouldn't be surprised. I'm glad if he did. I don't want to be alone."

I reach out and place a hand on his arm for a moment. He smiles at me. Thanking me silently for not pressing the point. Yet surprising me with his next comment.

"I was mostly alone in a dark cell. Brooding. I really don't remember much of the rest. Not sure if I was drugged or _obliviated_. I think part of me doesn't want to, anyway."

Ron and I are both surprised at the degree of openness. I had been mentally bracing myself for several months of temper tantrums and moody silences before he actually said anything.

"But..."

"I know how I look. I can feel the hurt, but I can't remember the details of what happened to me. For the most part."

Whatever it is he does remember it's sure to be a nightmare. No wonder he doesn't want to sleep.

ooooo

Harry is restless for some reason. He touches the scar on his forehead distractedly and is looking out the window.

Suddenly he seems to convulse in pain. He is clutching his head and stumbles out of the bed ending in a crouch in the floor. The faintest of moans can be heard. His hands are pressing hard, his knuckles white.

"He knows. He's back." I hear him gasp.

He's in pain. Voldemort must know he escaped and is furious and Harry must be getting the whiplash of it.

Madam Pomfrey reaches to Harry's side but is thrown back before she can touch him. Ron manages to grab her before she falls.

"He's going to kill them. He's..." Harry tries to say to say.

He's punishing whoever had something to do with the security I bet. Whoever he thinks responsible for Harry escaping. And he's punishing Harry at the same time. How lovely of him.

I'm kneeling beside Harry, not daring to touch him for fear of more accidental magic. Last thing I want is to be thrown across the room. Ron is beside him too. We're talking to him; trying to get him to pull away from whatever vision he's seeing. He's struggling against it. The air around him is starting to glow faintly.

He fails around and to my surprise he grabs my hand and squeezes almost to the point of pain. The glow intensifies around him and our hands. Ron's eyes widen as he reaches for Harry's other hand; the glow is now even brighter. We hold on to him and whatever magic is going on grows, enveloping Ron and myself. Without thinking about it, I reach for Ron's free hand and we close the circle. Harry's eyes are open, but he seems to be seeing something else.

It could have been a few seconds. It could have been an eternity. I feel connected to the two of them. There's a rush of images and emotions, which I can't identify as theirs or mine. Overwhelming. Then it is over.

Harry is now smiling. There's an indescribable look of joy in his face. Dazed.

**xxxxx**

A/N - That was probably the most difficult chapter so far. I find it hard to get into Miss Granger's head at times. I have most of two more done: Neville and Ginny with an epilogue with Harry again. I hope to post all before the coming of the prince.

Please let me know what you think so far.


	5. Chapter 4, Bond part I

Disclaimer - I still don't own a thing.

During this section the POV's will be changing, so pay close attention to the headings.

**xxxxx**

**Chapter 4 - Bond, Part I**

ooooo **Ron**

Gods, Harry is in so much pain. I know it and I feel helpless to do something about it. I try talking to him. Reaching out. Break thought the vision he's having. I can tell he's still not in its full grip. He's struggling against it.

Using the bond like I did when he was fading, I try to reach to his mind. To provide a lifeline and pull him back. Instead of the resignation and emptiness I felt before, there is now roiling chaos. Pain and determination.

He's not giving up this time. I convinced him to come back from the edge once. Helping him back this time should be no different.

It's like flying in a storm trying to find something.

I can almost reach him and I feel his hesitation. I push his reluctance away and hold on to him. I see him grab Hermione's hand and the glow around him is getting stronger at the same time his mind seems to pull back from wherever he is. From where he's being taken to.

I hold on to his hand as tightly as I do to the bond. Hermione and I close the circle and I feel a surge of images and sounds.

ooooo **Harry**

Raging anger. Pain. Cruelty. Torture. Lashing out. He knows. He knows I escaped.

My head feels like it will split open. Right along my scar. I can feel his magic. Dark and twisted expression of something that should have been so wonderful.

He's in a rage, but the torture he's inflicting seems deliberate and contrived. He knows this will hurt me too. He knows his anger is the gateway into the connection. Into my mind. He can use that destructive wave of power to push into my mind. To take me over. It doesn't matter that we're kilometers away. He's trying to tear his way inside my mind.

Possessing me.

I can't let it happen. I'm right beside Ron and Hermione. I can't let them see and hear Voldemort in me. I won't let him terrorize or hurt them.

I can't. I can't. I won't. Time seems stretched as I try to wrest the control from him.

I won't let him take over. Don't even consider giving in. Stop him or die trying. He'd take over and hurt my friends. Voldemort loose in Hogwarts. No. _NO_.

The wave keeps rising. Not letting up. I can see images of his mind. I see myself being taken to a standing stone circle. Being sacrificed as he revels in his power. Dead at his bloodied hands. That is what he planned. And being deprived of that, he will settle for making me his puppet.

Making me kill my friends.

_NO_.

I try to imagine a shield around my mind. Something to protect myself. To protect the ones I care about. I can feel my own magic surrounding me. I try to find a way to sever the bond. Cut him off. Cut the connection. I can't find a way. We're too connected. It's like fighting a Devil's Snare. The more I fight, the more I'm trapped.

It's too much. I can't breathe. I can't see. I can't feel. I'm drowning. I'm drowning in darkness and pain. In evil. I need help. Somebody please help. I can't stop him on my own.

I can feel a whisper or a brush of a familiar mind reaching out. _Ron_. Ron is calling to me and he will be dragged in too. I have to do something protect him. I won't let this evil touch my friend. Ron's call is stronger. I can feel his touch. He won't back down. His identity is like a lifeline to my _self_. Ron's friend. That is who I am. Ron's best friend.

I reach out and I can feel Hermione's hand in my own. Holding on to me. Hermione. Hermione and Ron holding on to me. Not letting me go. I can feel them. They are pulling me back from the horrible darkness. From the pain. Not letting me drown in it.

Ron and Hermione. My friends. My family. Blood be damned. These two are my familiy.

_YOU WON'T HURT MY FAMILY_. I scream to the darkness.

My family. I can see them now. Not with my eyes. With my mind. With my heart. Beside me. I can see their laugher. Hear their smiles. Touch their hearts.

I can see Ron surrounded by a steady blue light. Constant and true. Cool and deep as a lake. An ocean. Seemingly simple at the horizon with an immense depth and power to what he feels.

I can see Hermione enveloped and a dancing violet shade. Like dancing flames. Never steady. Never repeating a pattern. A constant rush of thoughts and emotions. Fast as lightning. More powerful than thunder.

I see myself. Coruscating light. Like the facets of a shattered crystal refracting and reflecting the colors around me. Even if I don't always shine on my own, I always will from those around me it seems. There is darkness there, but also light.

I can see the ties between us, and the ones to others, like a thousand colored strings made of light

The ties are steadily pulling me back from the darkness. But the darkness fights back. Tendrils reaching out and wrapping around me like the coils of a snake. From it comes something subtler this time. Seducing.

**You could be so powerful.** Taunting voice.

_I don't need power. I have THIS_. Encompassing in that word all that surrounds me.

**Love. Love is worthless.** Spiteful.

I almost feel pity for him. He doesn't know what this is like. How overwhelming it is to give away a part of yourself and being trusted with a sliver of someone else. It's the most precious gift there is.

Maybe I could give him a taste. I stop fighting the connection and instead concentrate on my own feelings. Not fighting against him. Let him in. Let him feel.

I let my heart fill with everything I care about. Ron. Hermione. Ginny. Hogwarts. The Burrow. Sirius. Remus. Tonks. Every smile. Gryffindor Tower. Every shared moment. Molly. Arthur. George. Fred. Laughter and tears. Love. All of this mixed into a wonderful kaleidoscope that somehow feels as exhilarating as phoenix song. As dizzying as a wild broom ride.

The darkness recedes against the wave of color, sound and light. He is gone and there is only the three of us left. I reach out and feel their touch back. My brother and my sister.

I feel the light fade until it's more or less the usual intensity and I can see properly again. Time goes back to its steady rhythm. I feel like I fought for an eternity, yet it must have been over in a few seconds.

The hospital wing. Kneeling on the floor, holding hands with Hermione and Ron.

I can feel a warm tingling all over. Everything around me feels more intense. More _here_ than ever before.

In typical Hermione fashion, with her eyes full of tears, she pulls on our hands tugging us closer and throws her arms around us. Ron and I hesitate just a moment before giving in to the three-way hug.

I'm really home this time.

ooooo **Hermione**

He hasn't lost the dazed look. His smile is real, but his eyes seem a bit unfocused. Dumbledore watches him and asks him how he feels.

"Never better." Odd answer for what just happened. He continues talking. "It was supposed to happen today. My blood on the sacrificial stones. The night of the winter solstice. He was in a rage."

I shudder. He escaped barely in time. Voldemort had something very specific planned for him. Some sort of ritual or sacrifice. Just like Ron predicted.

"Harry, I wonder if you would do some magic for me?"

"Anything sir."

"Albus..." Madam Pomfrey tries to interrupt. She' still a bit shaken from what happened earlier, but habit makes her object to stressing a patient. I would agree, except Harry doesn't look tired. He looks exhilarated. Happy. Calm. Slightly off.

Dumbledore takes a look at the books I had been going over with Harry and asks for a bit of conjuring. A flower he says.

I'm appalled. Conjuring something organic is harder. We've been working on it for weeks and Harry has not succeeded as far as I know.

Reaching for his wand, Harry whispers the proper incantation and a flower in fact appears. It is perfect. Fresh as if it was just picked from Sprout's greenhouses. A white rose.

The headmaster reaches for it an examines it.

"Very good work. Minerva will be proud. Ten points to Gryffindor." He places the flower on a glass of water on the bedside table. Harry reaches out a finger and touches the flower, the white petals shimmer and change colors, the perfume can be felt in the air. I'm doubly impressed. A Blushing Rose. Harry conjured up a _magical_ plant.

"My favorites." He murmurs.

"As they were your mother's, Harry. There were always some in your house when she was alive."

Harry keeps smiling at the rose as if he has not heard the headmaster's words. Somehow, he must remember them from what little time he actually spent with his parents. They remind him of home.

ooooo **Ron**

"What is wrong with him?"

"Nothing is wrong Mr. Weasley. Something is right for the first time and he's a bit overwhelmed by it."

I don't understand how he can be so calm about it. Harry looks like he were drunk. Pissed out on Firewhiskey.

"Do you understand about the connection Harry has with Voldemort?"

"Of course. Harry has been looking into his mind for ages." I say exasperatedly.

"The connection is beyond that. Harry is connected to Tom Riddle at several levels. It is very possible Voldemort survived all those years because of it. Since Voldemort is older and more experienced, it tends to flow against Harry. Overriding his own emotions and more importantly his own magic. Harry was cursed by him when he was a little over a year, for the last fifteen he's been living under the shadow of it. Until today."

I feel myself blink in surprise. I never thought of Harry as being cursed. Unlucky at most...

"James and Lily were both very talented and powerful. It's a bit surprising that Harry has not shown such remarkable abilities unless he's in stressful conditions. As Voldemort regains more of his power, the more is Harry drained."

Hermione beside me is shocked by the revelation, but it makes a horrible kind of sense. Old Moldie didn't die because he somehow latched himself to Harry and now he's getting stronger _feeding_ on Harry. He used Harry's blood to come back. From what Harry saw in his mind, some sort of ritual was planned where he would be sacrificed. How medieval can you get? Honestly, it's wizards like him that give witchcraft and magic a bad name.

"As if Riddle were some sort of vampire?"

"More of a parasite. It's telling that Harry can feel Tom's emotions, see through his eyes. Harry is being pulled towards Tom, not the other way around."

"But now..." Hermione says as if it pained her.

"Tom flew into murderous rage when he realized he had again underestimated Harry. He probably knows how much it would hurt Harry to lose control like that. However, Harry realized he had in fact escaped from his grasp and was with the two people he cares for the most. Who care for him. I believe he wasn't going to let Tom take that away from him. Joy strong enough to reverse the connection. To make Tom feel what he was feeling instead."

"I hope he gave him a great headache." I say with bitterness.

"Maybe a bit more than that." Says the headmaster with a twinkle in his eyes.

"So Harry broke the connection?" Hermione asks. I hold my breath...

There's a resigned air to Dumbledore. "No. It is still there and most probably it will reverse itself. For now, Tom is the strongest of the two. But Harry knows it can be reversed. Right now he feels clean and unburdened. Free. Like he was supposed to feel since he was born. I have faith he will able to do it again."

ooooo **Harry**

I hear Dumbledore trying to explain what is going on to Hermione and Ron. I don't like it when people talk about me like I wasn't here, but I'm thankful nobody's pressing _me_ for an explanation. I can feel their confusion mixed with horror as they realize just how connected I am to Voldemort. Bonded to him in a way.

I guess I always knew. I also know I have a ridiculous smile pasted on my face but I can help it. I feel so... I feel.

There is no other way to describe it. I feel.

It's similar to how I see with or without my glasses. I don't fall on my face without them, but with them, everything is sharper, defined. It's like turning on the light in a dark room, removing mufflers from my ears, breathing fresh air after being in a stuffy room. All at the same time and more.

This is what I felt that moment when I blocked his marking me. Somehow I managed to do it. I was thinking of all the people I care about and that helped me. Just like holding on to Ron and Hermione, closing the circle, I was with them. For a fleeting moment I was them.

I know it won't last, maybe the memory will be enough.

Without anyone noticing I get up from the bed again and grab the dressing gown. I start to walk out of the ward when Madam Pomfrey stops me. I apologize for having pushed her away earlier and I try to explain that all I want is to go outside for a moment.

Not surprisingly, she doesn't want me to.

Dumbledore is now at my side and waves the nurse off. His hand reaches for my elbow and guides me down the corridor and to the closest doorway. I think this is where Ron flew us through.

We step outside and the light on the snow dazzles me. The cold breeze on my face feels wonderful. I can see the sun for the first time in what feels an eternity. I can hear laughter from students already playing in the snow. I can feel everything.

"I wish it were spring already."

"You want to see living things?"

"Yes." I can't explain why. But I feel the need to experience everything I can while this feeling lasts. The more I do, the longer it will last. I feel it. I can sense Dumbledore's gaze as he thinks about my request.

"Close your eyes Harry. This will feel very odd."

I obey. A dizzying moment later we're standing inside greenhouse five. Where Professor Sprout keeps her prized roses during the winter.

"You can aparate inside Hogwarts? Hermione keeps telling us it can't be done."

"Headmaster's privilege. It's also a secret, but I think you can be trusted with it."

I smile at him and I'm soon distracted by all the living plants around us. I can feel their life force. The magic in everything that is alive. I'm probably imagining things, but I almost feel the plants reacting to me.

ooooo **Harry**

"I know you were also listening when I explained to Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger."

"I was." I admit.

"Did I make the correct assumptions?"

I look at the headmaster in surprise. Dumbledore just asked _me_ for an explanation. I thought he always gave them.

"Yes, Harry. I'm asking you to explain it."

"I don't know. But your explanation seems to fit in part with what I could see in him. He believes that if I die, he will gain whatever power I have. I suppose that means that if he dies, I get his." I swallow a knot of fear from my throat. I won't think like this.

"A Death bond."

I'm fairly sure Dumbledore chose that particular wording with a purpose. He must suspect what happened. That I somehow bonded Hermione and Ron to myself. I am truly no better than Voldemort. Except he preys on his enemies and I prey on my friends.

"They chose to join you Harry."

I look at the mark in my wrist. A shinning triangle. The Gryffindor three. Ginny will be upset at being left out again. I suspect that Ron and Hermione might have an additional mark, but I can't be sure. To me they are my brother and sister. I felt them agree. However, I'm quite sure they don't feel anything remotely related to being brother and sister to each other. Just like what I feel for Ginny is not brotherly at all.

I touch the mark. I know this one is more powerful yet more vulnerable than what I shared with Ron. We will know a lot through it, yet it will break on it's own if we stop trusting each other. If we betray the bond.

If only it were that easy to break the bond to him. The scar in my forehead. Similar marks with so different results.

"Why didn't you kill me sir? You must have known that my being alive allowed him to survive all those years without his body. It would have stopped so many deaths. So much pain could have been avoided."

"Who was I to take away life, Harry? I cannot give life, I could not take it away. Even if I had been sure. If I had known how he would use you, I would not have been able to do it. It was bad enough knowing you would be hurt by my decision to leave you with your relatives. But to irretrievably destroy a possibility like you? Security can't be bought by the blood of an innocent."

I'm not so sure anymore.

"Would you be able to make such a decision? If the safety of all us depended upon the sacrifice of an innocent. Something that could never be set to rights. Would it be worth it?"

I let go of the breath I didn't realize I was holding. No. I would not be able to make such a decision. To commit such an injustice. Yet, now the question is different and in many ways, much more disturbing.

"Is it true that I would gain his powers if he dies at my hand?" Supposing I find a way to do that.

"It is possible. Nothing is certain, Harry." Dumbledore says, but without much conviction.

"Then we both need to die. At my hand or at his."

I sense the old teacher's surprise. I'm pretty sure he only considered a win-lose option. Most Gryffindors only see that way. Yet, in life like in chess, sacrifices are needed. The sacrifice of an innocent is one thing. A willing sacrifice is a different story. If I do find a way to defeat him, I would become too dangerous. Better to not have the temptation. Lose-lose. Must be my Slytherin side talking.

"We will find another way, Harry."

"There might not be. If we both died..."

"No."

"If we both died, all would be safe. There has to be a way to use the connection to destroy us both. I couldn't break it"

"No." I can see it's more a denial of the cost, yet not of the consequences. Dumbledore is just too good at seeing the big picture not to consider such a scenario a blessing to all.

I have to think about this. Much as I would prefer to survive...


	6. Chapter 5, Bond part II

Disclaimer - I still don't own a thing.

Like the last chapter the POV's will be changing, so pay close attention to the headings.

**xxxxx**

**Chapter 4 - Bond, Part II**

ooooo **Hermione**

I stay behind with Ron as Dumbledore leads Harry outside as he requested. Not sure why. I suppose he wanted to see real sunlight after being holed up for so long. Maybe it has something to do with whatever he's going through.

I can't believe what Dumbledore said regarding Harry and Voldemort. Yet it makes a horrible kind of sense. Especially when I remember the times Harry said he could not always tell where one ended and the other began. Whose emotions he was really feeling.

Speaking of emotions...

I felt so many of them the moment the three of us were holding hands. I'm pretty sure not all of them were my own. It was confusing and pleasant at all the same time. Like I could feel what they were feeling and thinking.

I see Ron glance at his wrist and his eyebrows rise in surprise, he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like _'Bloody Potter'_. He looks towards me and I can feel he's nervous about something.

He comes closer and I'm surprised at how aware I seem of him. He not just there. He's _THERE_. Gently, he takes my elbow and guides me outside the Hospital wing without a glance towards the nurse.

"We need to talk."

A couple of hours ago, I would have been secretly thrilled hearing a comment like that from him. Especially after what happened in the Common Room. Now I'm not so sure.

He propels the both of us towards an empty classroom and quickly does a silencing charm on the door and proceeds to do the same with the walls. I can feel his concentration and a little worm of worry forms in my mind. Why doesn't he want anyone to hear us?

ooooo **Ron**

I face her and I can't believe I'm doing this. I fully understand why Harry said that we would not tell Hermione about the bond. His words back then were _'Not until you sort things out'_. I thought he meant the bond, but I think I know what he was really talking about now.

I wasn't ready to let her know. I couldn't face the possible consequences.

I run my hands over my hair nervously trying to figure out the words to tell her. Before she can figure it out on her own.

ooooo **Hermione**

"What is going on Ron? Why did you place the silencing charms?"

"Because this has to be kept secret. Harry thinks Dumbledore is spying on him. On us. And there are others."

"Didn't we learn it's a bad thing to keeps secrets last year? And you and Harry still kept the bond from me? Now _we're_ keeping secrets from _him_?" I accuse.

He looks at me oddly. I've sidetracked whatever he was planning to say somehow.

"Hermione, where is Harry?"

"At the greenhouses, of course." I say without really thinking about it. I blink in confusion. _How did I know that?_ I can tell he can see my bafflement.

"For being the cleverest witch in our year, sometimes you're a bit behind, Hermione." He says softly as he reaches over to me and takes my left hand. My skin seems to tingle at his touch. He pushes the sleeve of my jumper and makes me look at my wrist. There's a mark there. Two of them actually. Shimmering colors. Almost like being made out of light itself.

Two intertwined circles and a triangle close together, almost touching.

ooooo **Ron**

I see the mark on her wrist. Identical to what mine looks like now. Somehow, what happened with Harry, changed it. It feels very different. Stronger, yet incredibly more fragile. Layered.

"We're bonded? Is that how it felt when you and Harry..?"

"More or less."

"Oh."

I touch her mark and I can feel the power of it. Of them. I'm almost sure now it's two bonds. The triangle one connects the three of us. The famous Gryffindor trio is now official, I guess. The other one. The other one only seems to consist of Hermione and I. _Damn you, Potter. When you get back, I'm going to kill you_. In spite of everything, I think this without emotion. I know I had to tell her sometime.

"Looks like _Animae Unitas_. But I'll have to look in the Library to confirm it."

I can sense a mixture of surprise and amusement from her.

"Yes, Hermione. I do know where the Library is and I know it's not an evil place. On occasion, I even do research." I tell her lightly. Anything to defer what is coming.

I feel as if my stomach was full of lead.

"Do you remember I said Harry decided not to tell you?"

ooooo **Hermione**

I look at him in disbelief at what he's saying. He says that Harry was the one who made the decision. But I sense something completely different.

"It wasn't Harry. It was you, wasn't it. _You_ didn't want me to join." All I feel is my own hurt. Ron didn't want me.

"Hermione, Harry did make the decision. Not let you know until_ I _sorted things out."

"Sorted things out?"

"I thought at the time he meant the bond issues but... He really meant to sort things out with _you_."

I feel a panicked dread at his words. I can feel his discomfort. Maybe he knew all along. He knew I fancied him and he didn't want to deal with that issue if we bonded. It would have been difficult for him to ignore such a thing.

I can feel myself blush.

"It would have made you uncomfortable being bonded with me." I say in sad realization.

ooooo **Ron**

Merlin, she knows. She knows and understands that I would not have been able to hide it any longer if we had bonded. She can feel it know and what I feared will come true. I will lose her because of what I feel. Because she does not feel the same way.

All I feel is sadness and loss.

ooooo **Hermione**

"Hermione, you did notice that I kissed you earlier?" The sadness coming from him is too much to bear. I don't want his pity.

"Of course." I say fussily. Maybe if I make myself angry at him, it won't hurt so much.

"Did you wonder why I did it?"

I look into his wonderful blue eyes. Eyes that will never look at me like I want them to. "I don't know. Because you were happy that you could sense Harry again? Excited?" I say trying to shrug.

"When I felt him back, it was like sensing a piece of myself that was lost. I felt nearly complete then. I... I kissed you because somehow I knew that would make me feel fully complete."

I just stare at him not believing what I just heard. I fear my mouth has dropped open. I don't dare to hope.

ooooo **Ron**

_Complete._ That is how she makes me feel most of the time. No matter the arguments and the fights. Or the fact that we get into each other's nerves. That she can make my lose my temper like no one else can. Maybe because of it. I don't know. I only know that with her at my side, I can do almost anything.

With Harry gone, a big piece of myself was missing and she was the only one that could make that emptiness better. Because I gave her a piece of myself long ago. Without even noticing that I had done so. Without telling her so.

But now I have to tell her. Because she carries it. Whether she wants it or not, she does have it.

"Hermione, I should have told you ages ago. It took me a while to realize that I felt more than friendship. That being your friend was not enough."

She hasn't pulled away yet. Maybe she does not feel repulsed by me. Maybe she will forgive what I feel and still be my friend.

ooooo **Hermione**

More than friendship? He thinks of me as more than a friend?

I bite my lip trying to get around the idea that he does care after all. A glimmer of hope is budding somewhere. But I need to be careful.

Of course, if he says he thinks of me as a sister (like Harry does), I will hex him into the middle of next week.

"Why didn't you say anything?" I ask him.

"Because I was afraid of losing you. Because I know you probably don't feel the same way and it would have ruined this with us. With Harry. He needs the both of us, not just me, Hermione." He says. "That is why _this_ happened." He adds raising his wrist so I can see the changed mark there.

A triangle and two intertwined circles. I touch the marks in my own arm again and I can feel the differences now. The triangle is the three of us. _Unitas_, like he said. Union. The circles feel differently. I try to reach out tentatively, I can feel Ron. Only Ron. Standing beside me feeling resigned. He thinks I don't care the same way about him.

I catch my breath as I realize the circles are Ron and myself. Harry changed it because he felt how we both cared for each other.

_Bloody Potter, indeed_. I don't know if I will hex him or hug him when he gets back.

ooooo **Ron**

"You should have told me sooner." She says with irritation. It's a tone I recognize all too well.

I can feel a touch of anger and irritation. Any moment now, she will ask how to lift the bond so she can be free of my unwanted attentions. I make myself go over the incantation Harry and I did originally. To do the counter spell properly we might have to do over them again. Of course, this is Hermione, so she probably already knows it.

"We wouldn't have wasted so much time, because I feel the same way about you." She reprimands me.

"_What?_" I say in shock and surprise.

"You heard me, you numbskull. How was I supposed to know how you felt, when you didn't tell me? Honestly, Ron. After taking so long to notice I was a girl, how could I tell?" She says raising her voice. Her hair is almost giving out sparks.

This is too much. "I'll have you know that I always knew you were _female_. I just didn't see you as a _girly-girl_. Loving pink, reading Witch Weekly or other ridiculous stuff silly girls do. You are nothing like Lavender or Parvati or any other giggling twits that infest the castle. You're _Hermione_. Brave and smart and loyal and beautiful. Can you blame me if it didn't lump you with the others?" I yell at her.

She looks shocked. "You think I'm beautiful?" She asks in a timid voice.

My ears are starting to turn red. I just know it. "Hermione, you're breathtaking."

"I think you're pretty hot stuff yourself." She says blushing.

If possible, my ears are now redder than my hair.

ooooo **Hermione**

I feel like I've been knocked out flat. Here we are. We just informed each other that we fancy each other and, in true Granger-Weasley fashion, we did it with a shouting match.

I smile at him hesitantly and he returns the smile. His eyes are looking at me like I hoped they would. I know now that they haven't changed, its just that I see it now. Love isn't always a flash or a strike of lightning. Sometimes it sneaks up on you and it's there. Here. Right in front of you.

Maybe it's the bond. Maybe it's the fact that we've known each other for so long. We move closer and our arms go around each other. His mouth finds mine.

He's kissing me. I'm kissing him. We're kissing. I feel a wonderful sense of completeness tinged with tenderness. I let my lips part and the sensations rise to desire and passion. Scary and wonderful at the same time. And I can tell from his touch that he's feeling much the same way.

When we finally pull back from each other, we're both a bit breathless.

"I told you. Breathtaking." He says softly.

I start to laugh with him. Not letting him go as we hold each other laughing and smiling. Kissing again.

ooooo **Ron**

There can't be anything more wonderful than holding on to someone you care about and laughing together. Unless you happen to love her and you're also kissing her between the laughter.

I'm the luckiest guy alive.

ooooo **Harry**

_Finally._ I feel myself smiling.

It only took them five years of bickering and a bond to make them understand what the rest of us knew for years. They were always meant for each other. In fact, I suspect this if it hadn't been for me, they might have gotten together a lot sooner.

I pull away from the brief contact of the bond, not wanting to intrude.

Maybe now that they have each other they won't miss me as much when it happens. Because it will happen.

Dumbledore is guiding me back to the Hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey's clutches. He is quiet and his eyes show none of the twinkle he uses so well. I know he's considering what I said and I would not be surprised if he puts me under some suicide watch at the very least.

Which would be a waste of energy. I have no interest in taking my own life for the sake of ending it all.

I admit that a few hours ago I almost did. I felt myself as if on the edge of a cliff. Where I only had to take a step to be free from it all. From prophecies and manipulations. To see the other side. It felt wonderful. I was content. I knew in that moment that death is really just another adventure and I've never backed down from one of those.

But I heard him call me back. My best friend. Ron was calling desperately for me and I could also feel a whisper of Hermione doing the same. So I stepped back from the edge. Back to the pain. Because this adventure is not over yet and it was not my time.

But that interminable moment at the cliff's edge, was enough for me to stop being afraid. I am not afraid to die anymore. It's not that I _want_ to, but I'm not really afraid of it. I only need to make sure I bring _him_ down at the same time.

"Harry..."

I turn towards the headmaster, really meeting his eyes for the first time since I don't know how long. Probably since the end of fifth year.

"I know I can't stop you if you decide to follow your idea through." The pain I can hear in his voice is quite real.

I nod in understanding.

"I only want your promise that you will at least consider other options first." He places his hands on my shoulders. "If there's anyone that deserves a full and long life, that person is you."

I blink away the tears that are forming in my eyes in spite of myself. The problem is that deserving anything, rarely influences what happens...

"Death is waiting for all of us regardless of our lives and choices. Always _waiting_ for us. It's an appointment we can always be late for. I'd much rather welcome you there than the other way around." He ends softly, a touch of twinkle in his eyes.

He turns me around and I can see Ron and Hermione waiting for me inside the Hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey hovering close by. I smile and join my... my family.


End file.
